


Invitation

by lamardeuse



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-27
Updated: 2010-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The soup did it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> First line stolen from doll_revolution.

Jim Ellison flailed his way awake, ripping off his sleep mask and flinging it violently away. He rolled over and stared at the body that was currently occupying the left side of his bed. The body that had moments before been lying on top of him and rubbing against various parts of him with a shocking level of enthusiasm.

"Sandburg," he said, shooting for calm and missing it by a mile, "what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Well," Blair said conversationally, a smile tugging at his lips, "I was groping you. But right at the moment I'm lying here in your bed. With the biggest boner, incidentally, that I've ever had in my life."

Jim stared at him. "Are you stoned?"

Blair propped his head on a hand. "Don't think so. I can never get it up when I'm stoned. Let alone pronounce words like 'incidentally.'"

"Then what the hell is this?" Jim roared, looming over Blair in an attempt at intimidation.

Blair smiled back at him, his eyes showing definite interest in the whole looming idea. Nonplussed, Jim retreated with haste.

Blair's grin grew wider. "I think it was the soup that did it."

Jim scowled.

"You made me soup today, Jim."

Jim scowled some more. "Yeah, I made you soup, Sandburg. So what?"

"Well, it just kind of hit me, see. Today, you made me soup. From scratch. Because you knew I'd had a shit day. And it wasn't just any soup--it was my favourite soup, from the recipe you got from my Aunt Esther. What's more, you do that kind of thing a lot. So--you know--" He gestured with a roll of his right hand.

"I know--" Jim prompted, copying the gesture, "what?"

Blair's face pinched with exasperation. "Jim, when a man cooks you soup like that, there's only one possible explanation."

"Chicken soup is not a--"

"Homemade chicken soup--"

"--is not an invitation to--to--!" Jim spluttered, allowing his hands to supply the missing verb.

Blair silenced him with gentle fingers laid over his mouth. Jim suppressed a shiver.

"I didn't say it was," Blair said softly, shaking his head. Slowly, tentatively, his fingertips traced the outline of Jim's lips. "It's an invitation to something a hell of a lot more important."

Then he smiled in an entirely different way, and this time Jim allowed the shiver its freedom.

"Sorry it's taken me so long," Blair whispered.

"It's okay," Jim said, a smile finally curving his lips. "You're a smart guy. I knew you'd figure it out one of these days."

This time before Blair kissed Jim, he punched him on the arm.

**Author's Note:**

> First published October 2004.


End file.
